My dad served in India and Burma during WW2 and he never talked about it until one evening I asked him if he ever regretted having a tattoo on his arm. He said yes, but it was something you were encouraged to do when you were conscripted, just in case you got your head blown off and your dog tags went missing. He then said that he and two mates had the same tatoo (a bluebird) done on the same evening when they had a bit of R and R
A few days later when back serving my dad was part of a search party sent to look for some missing blokes. My dad's group found them all dead, killed by the Japanese and my dad's two friends were amongst them
I remember him crying his eyes out on VJ day as there was little pomp and ceremony unlike VE day
He said through his tears we were the forgotten army then and still are now
On a lighter note, my dad was always one for plain British food, meat and two veg. I asked him once if he ever fancied a curry
He replied, curry! I ate bloody curry every bloody day for four bloody years.